


Worst Nightmare

by deanbennylife (kams_log)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Human Benny, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Vampire Benny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 15:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3982990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kams_log/pseuds/deanbennylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benny has a horrific nightmare. Dean is there to comfort him and remind him of who he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worst Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by meldarlin's fan art called 'Worst Nightmare.' (meldarlin.tumblr.com)
> 
> Seriously, it's incredible. Go check it out if you have time. It's in her art tab.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it. Fair warning for lots of blood, temporary extreme grief and mourning, and lots and lots of hurt/comfort. (Cuddling and kissing bonuses. I'm incapable of true evil.)

Benny felt something dripping from his hands. It was warm, thick and slow running. He could feel the same oddly sticky substance on his face, sliding down his face and chin. He licked his lips and winced as the taste flooded his mouth.

It coated his tongue and lips like a blanket. A horrible, awful blanket that he _knew_ wasn’t right.

It was blood.

He wiped at his face, desperate to get the feeling off of him. He didn’t drink blood anymore. He knew that. Sam and Dean had found a cure for him when they saved him for the last time from Purgatory. He _knew_ that.

But it was covering him everywhere. And it was down his throat and in his mouth in a way that couldn’t have gotten there if he’d just been hunting with his lover.  
He pushed it away, but the blood refused to be cleaned. It stuck to his face, to his hands, to his lips and tongue. If anything, the taste became intoxicating. It made him dizzy. His vision felt blurry, his movements sluggish and choppy. It was like moving through a dream, and all he could think about was how wrong it all felt. He knew it wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right.

That was when he looked down. His body seized in terror.

He was kneeling on the ground, and on the ground before him was Dean. His throat was torn out, and glassy, lifeless green eyes stared up at him in betrayal. Blood poured sluggishly from the wound, and the ground was drenched with it. It crawled up across Benny’s knees, soiled his clothes and dug into the earth below, ruining everything it touched.

But Benny couldn’t look at the blood. There was too much. He stared at Dean’s bloody face, the neck that was shredded to pieces, at Dean’s accusing eyes.  
The blood burned in Benny’s throat. His limbs felt like they were on fire, but still he couldn’t move.

Dean was dead. Dear God, _Dean was dead_.

He screamed, didn’t know what else to do but cradle his own head and scream at the world. He was drenched in the blood of his best friend, his lover. He’d killed one of the only anchors he had to the world. _Dean was dead. Dean was dead._

Benny choked on the fluids in his throat, churning and boiling with the evil and rottenness of what he’d done.

For the entire world, Benny didn’t know how it happened. Couldn’t remember. He couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t focus.

He tried to reach out and pull Dean’s body into his arms, but he was too heavy. He didn’t move an inch under Benny’s touch.

Benny collapsed on his chest, wept bitterly under the pain of it all. He couldn’t live with himself.

He was a monster. _He’d killed Dean_.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he pulled away. Benny wept, screamed, clawed at Dean’s body in an effort to pull him closer, beg for forgiveness he’d never deserve.  
The hand was insistent, pulled him sharply away. But still Benny growled, shoved the arm away and turned back to his dead lover, his friend and partner.

“Benny,” a voice called to him. Benny didn’t listen.

“ _Benny!_ ” The voice exclaimed.

Something hit Benny hard on the chest, and a moment later, his arms were pulled back. He struggled against it, but Dean was gone. The blood disappeared too, and all Benny could feel was the coil of fear and anger of what he’d done.

“Damnit Benny,” the voice sounded desperate. “ _Wake up!_ ”

Benny snapped his eyes opened and stared. Green eyes stared back down at him, wide and frightened.

Hands were wrapped around his wrists, pinning them above his head. Bow legs straddled his waist, and freckles dotted the face of the man who should have been screaming curses at him in anger.

Dean sat on top of him, alive, and looking for all the world like he was about to have a heart attack. But he was _alive_.

Benny choked back tears and stared up at him.

All was silent for several moments. All that could be heard was their ragged breathing. Dean’s hands steadily began to loosen, but they held him still.

“Benny,” Dean said finally, breaking the spell that covered them. Benny felt a tear fall. He tugged his hands away from Dean’s, and Dean let him. A second later, he was rocked with a hard sob. Dean immediately pressed against his chest and wrapped his arms around him.

“Sh,” Dean whispered, pressing kisses to Benny’s cheeks, his beard, his neck and chest and anywhere he could reach. “Sh, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Benny trembled in his touch, in his arms. He held tight to Dean and let him caress and whisper soft nothings against his skin. He let him move gently and quietly, unable to fight or even respond.

He closed his eyes. He was afraid if he opened them, his nightmare would become reality. Lifeless eyes glared at him accusingly in the darkness of his mind. He whined, another fat tear escaping, and Dean was pressing kisses to his lips and face an instant later.

“Hey, hey,” Dean whispered. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m safe. It’s okay. Look at me.”

Benny shook his head. He felt a hand touch his cheek and he flinched, finally did as he was told. Dean’s vibrant green eyes stared back at him worriedly.

“It was only a nightmare,” Dean said quietly. “It wasn’t real.”

Benny shuddered. “Coulda’ been.”

Dean nodded. He understood nightmares. Had them himself. Benny knew that from sharing a bed with him all these years. Both of them had nightmares of things they’d seen, things that could easily happen if they’d been just a second too slow.

But this was different. Benny would never be able to live with himself if that nightmare had been real. He wasn’t sure he could have lived at all. If he ever saw something so terrible, he was certain he would die on the spot. It would be too much.

Dean’s thumb wiped away stray tears that leaked from Benny’s eyes and kissed the drying spots on his face. “But it wasn’t. And it won’t.”

Benny grunted.

Dean looked up at him and asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Benny shook his head. Dean nodded and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. He didn’t pull back until they both needed air. Dean’s body slipped off of his and curled in close to Benny’s side, his arm still wrapped tightly around Benny’s arms and chest.

“I’m here,” he said. Benny nodded and snuggled in closer.

He needed to feel Dean’s breath against his skin. He needed to feel the rise and fall of his lover’s chest, to know without having to think that Dean was truly alive and beside him.

Their legs tangled under the sheets. Dean breathed slowly and softly in the darkness. To anyone else, Dean could have been sleeping. But Benny knew he wasn’t. Dean wouldn’t sleep until he knew he was alright.

And at that moment, Benny was very far from alright.

It took an hour. Then two. Benny felt his heart beginning to calm, and his arms tightened around Dean’s waist. Dean mumbled something incoherent and opened his eyes slowly. Benny sighed in relief at the bright flecks of green in the darkness.

“I killed you,” Benny whispered, like it was a sin to speak out loud.

Dean didn’t speak. His arms pulled Benny in closer. He pressed a kiss to Benny’s shoulder, a silent gesture to continue.

“I drank your blood. I killed you for your _blood_. Like I was a monster.”

Dean pressed another kiss to his shoulder. He hummed, “Not a monster, Benny.”

Benny shivered and pressed his lips to Dean’s head. “I know,” he replied, shaking. “Didn’ know that in the dream, though.”

Dean sighed. His breath was hot against Benny’s cool skin.

“I loved you when you were a vampire, Benny,” Dean said. “And I love you now. I’d love you no matter what you were. That’s not gonna’ change. Ever.”

“I killed you--”

“You did not,” Dean growled, his hands curling to fists at Benny’s back. Benny listened attentively.

“You would never hurt me. Ever. Our heads are messy places, Benny. You can’t listen to it. Those dreams are so far from reality you couldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole. You’d never hurt me Benny. Never have, never will.”

“But I--”

“No,” Dean growled. “You are not a monster. Even if you were, I’d still love you. Always will. I need you to trust me here.”

Benny was silent for several moments. Dean glared at him accusingly in the dark, but it wasn’t like in his dream. This Dean, the real Dean, looked frustrated and tired and ready to go back to bed. This Dean was determined to make Benny believe there was nothing he could do to ever change Dean’s mind about him.

Benny wanted to believe him. He was going to have to try to. Even if it took him the rest of his life.

“I trust ya,’” Benny said finally, quietly. Dean’s lips quirked up into a tired smile. He kissed Benny gently then fell back against his pillow.

“Awesome,” Dean mumbled. “Now how about we both get back to sleep. I don’t know about you, but I have to drive tomorrow.”

Benny chuckled gently and snuggled into Dean’s warm embrace.

“Whatever you say, darlin.’”

When Benny’s eyes finally closed again, Dean’s body was warm and tight against his.

The nightmare didn’t come back.

**Author's Note:**

> me: deanbennylife.tumblr.com


End file.
